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Full text of "The Letters Of Horace Walpole Vol I"

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more than I do, if yonder Alderman at the lower end of table was to stick his fork into his neighbour's jolly )ek, and cut a brave slice of brown and fat. Why, I'll aar I see no difference between a country gentleman and drloin; whenever the first laughs, or the latter is cut, ,re run out just the same streams of gravy! Indeed, the-Loin does not ask quite so many questions. I have an .nt here, a family piece of goods, an old remnant of [uisitive hospitality and economy, who, to all intents i purposes, is as beefy as her neighbours. She wore . so down yesterday with interrogatories, that I dreamt night.she was at my ear with 'who's' and 'why's,5 and hen's' and ' where's,' till at last in my very sleep I cried i;, ' For God in heaven's sake, Madam, ask me no more estions!'
Oh ! my dear Sir, don't you find that nine parts in ten of 3 world are of no use but to make you wish yourself with it tenth part ? I am so far from growing used to mankind living amongst them, that my natural ferocity and wild-38 does but every day grow worse. They tire me, they igue me; I don't know what to do with them; I don't .ow what to say to them ; I fling open the windows, and icy I want air; and when I get by myself, I undress fself, and seem to have had people in my pockets, in my lits, and on my shoulders! I indeed find this fatigue >rse in the country than in town, because one can avoid it ere and has more resources ; but it is there too. I fear 'tis owing old; but I literally seem to have murdered a man lose name was Ennui, for his ghost is ever before me. ley say there is no English word for ennui; I think you ay translate it most literally by what is called ' entertain-g people,' and 'doing the honours': that is, you sit an iur with somebody you don't know and don't care for, talk >out the wind and the. weather, and ask a thousand foolish
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